But alas, talent is a beast with it’s own set of parameters. It literally chooses you. Sebastien didn’t know it, but he had indeed been chosen.

I HAVE BEEN CHOSEN! FAREWELL, MY FRIENDS. I GO ON TO A BETTER PLACE.

He was a writer, so of course he wrote, and wrote, and wrote some more. Does a cow not produce milk? Does a duck not quack?

Does a bull not shit?

His editor Jennde was his most trusted friend, and the only one to see his masterpiece as it formed slowly over the months. Each successful posting, brought people by the millions out of the woodworks, leaving poor Sebastien to abuse his own lip with his awkwardly capped fangs, and made him wonder if perhaps he should have rethought his endeavor.

Too late. The barn door is open and the horses are dead. LET’S BEAT THEM!

He was becoming utterly-famous. He shuddered at the realization.

ZOMG! That’s how we reacted too!!11! *fangirl squees*

“He’s not taking it down!” Jennde told Icy, which turned the Icy lady cold with anger.

“Yes, he will. If you don’t…” she eyed Sebastien, as he held tight to the leather chair beneath him. “Then I turn her. Your choice.”

This trainwreck would not be complete without a cryptic, panty-drenching review from Morgan Locklear, in which one of us finally realizes that MOG does not in fact mean “Mother of God.”

We’re shaking in our skivvies as we wonder just what the evil puppetmaster has in mind…

If you came in here with even an ounce of self-esteem today, we sincerely hope it’s gone. Damn, just when you think you’ve made some headway along the Alpine Path, you look up from your well-written, cliché-free manuscript and realize that Sebastien Robichaud/Sylvain Reynard is already at the top.

Not that SR’s life is perfect, not by a long shot. If it were us, we’d want our hagiographies done by someone other than Miss RMD, who brought us the epic tale My Name Is Edward. At the very least, we’d hope for someone with a better grasp of mechanics so the tribute doesn’t read like a colossal clusterfuck. But hey, you get what you settle for in this world.

Nonnie, thank you. As much as we’d love to have called satire on this one…what the shiz. Either way, it was still funny.